


The Silence of Uptown New York

by FanmixCereal



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: BE WARY, Gen, Please consider whether or not you read this fanfic, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Self-Hatred, Suicide, The Author Regrets Everything, Your mental health should not be put on the line for a vent fic, this is dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 05:26:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9642578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanmixCereal/pseuds/FanmixCereal
Summary: Aaron dies, but not in the way most people think.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BadRomantic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadRomantic/gifts).



> Be wary of the tags, for this is a dark fanfic.

Alexander Hamilton sat amongst people, who were celebrating and cheering for his recent victory. He didn’t know most of the them, with wine in their hands and joy in their hearts. The horrid and distrusted Aaron Burr had been slandered by the wondrous man who spoke a mile a minute.  
“Hamilton!” A voice cried out from the mass of those around him. “Why must you be silent? Sing! For you are not the one who had been buried!” A laughter carried itself over from the crowd after the man had spoken, people nudge amongst themselves in teasing.  
Alexander, instead of responding, simply gazed at his drink. The ale was a warm yellow color, fuzzing at the top, settled and clear at the bottom. When he thought about it, the alcohol almost reminded him of that certain day…  
"Can I buy you a drink?"  
"That would be nice."  
He suddenly jumped out of his thoughts and began to stand up. “Hamilton, leaving so soon? You haven’t taken a sip of alcohol”  
Hamilton, before he even realized it, had already developed an answer “Aye, the missus is expecting me at home tonight” A couple of the guys began howling, with the rest smirking with a knowing glint in their eyes. And with that, he left the tavern. If only they were of the real reason he had left.

 

He began to walk home with a simple step, begrudgingly moving one foot in front of the other. Alexander looked around and noticed the world around him. It was as if the duel hadn’t happen; everyone was going about their days as normal. Families were walking with their children on the side of the street, with people in important suits seemingly rushing to their job. Did no one notice that someone was missing from this picture? Someone who had filled the world with his infuriating silence and vague answers, with his calm and cool personality that went unexplainably well with his nonstop one?  
Alexander rushed to his home before anyone could point out the tears in his eyes.

 

Eliza and their children weren’t home, but he had already known that. She approached him to say her goodbye, gave him a kiss [with his children jumping him with their hugs] before leading them to visit her sisters. By the time he had arrived, he already felt tears more falling down his face; his back, which was leaning near the door, was sliding down until he reached felt the ground. He cradled his face with hands, feeling the wetness that had gather there and sighed heavily to stop himself from screaming. Why? Why did they have to fight that idiotic duel? Why did Aaron have to do what he did?

 

There are a few things you need to know.

He rode across the Hudson that dawn; the sun hasn’t risen yet, giving the area a stormy, dark atmosphere. It reminded him of his trip to America and the horrid condition of the ship, along with that fire... Alex suddenly felt sick.

When they finally reached land, he saw that Burr was already there, and was now staring at him, his dark black eyes trained onto him. Alex repressed a shutter; God, what spirit was that man possessed with to have such eyes? As black as death, cold as winter, and omnipresent, as if his eyes were of God’s Himself. He felt scrutiny under those eyes, which only fueled his anger.

How dare this man drag him out of his warm home, filled with his beautiful wife and wonderful children (especially since Philip I had made his recovery) to this misty, chilly plain were houses were scarce, along with any chance for comfort? How can this man, with the intentions of the devil, approach him as he were righteous and demand him to apologize about what he had said? How. Dare. He? 

Alex gazed back in retaliation, as if to say, "you aren’t as power and as grand as you may believe. If you were, we wouldn’t be in this godforsaken mess."

The two men, carefully acknowledging each other’s presence, waited as their seconds went forth to discuss a peace. Alex nearly snorted at the thought; even if their seconds had made great conversation and call off the duel, the hatred he has for Burr will continue to fester, consuming him, like a problem you can’t solve, an itch you can’t scratch. He will never forgive him for this.

He was thrown out of his thoughts when he heard the seconds screaming at the other; Hamilton caught a few phrases, "your man is a menace!" "Well, at least my man knows when to strike. Yours is a rapid dog!" As soon as they met, they were departing from each other, the anger apparent on their faces. So they hadn’t reached an agreement. 

The doctor turned his back on the men in action before Aaron’s second (he thinks his name was Van Ness) called out, “Okay men, you know the rules. Turn around and walk ten pace, count to ten and turn at your rival”. Alexander rolled his eyes; he was well acquitted with these rules.

The two turned around began their walking. One, two, three, four… Then, came the moment before the shooting began. Hamilton had already had his mind and his letter prepared. He wasn’t going to shot at Burr, rather at the sky. If Burr killed him, the man will be guilty on all marks since Alex himself didn’t want to duel. But if he didn’t shot him, the man’s political life would be in shreds, while Hamilton would get off scot-free. There was no way he could lose this duel.

“…nine, ten! Fire!” He swiftly turned around and held his gun to the sky, staring at Burr. Hamilton’s eyes widen; Burr was not raising his gun or even his own eyes for that matter; the man was just casting his eyes on the ground. Alex fired his weapon once, trying to get Burr’s attention, to no avail. So, he then got it by the way he knew would work. Running his mouth.

“So Burr,” he began, voice filled of triumph, “Are you going to hesitant on this too? God, I know that it’s your way in politics, but I did not know you’d stoop that low here on the field.” As soon he had said that, Burr’s eyes suddenly rose upwards, causing Alexander to give off uncomfortable laugh. His eyes were no longer so high-strung, but a shiny black, like one would have as if in a daze. They looked sluggish with weight on something that were all of sudden too much, and now collapsed. Yet they were able to pierce him like a knife in this fog.

“I now realized,” Burr paused, “that you must have this all figured out right?” Something was wrong with tone of voice, Alexander thought. It was no longer nonchalant; it was something he himself couldn’t describe with works and that very thought irked him. 

“You have planned everything out,” he continued, “you wrote a letter, and so had I, but not just explain why you had gone, but a shield. Whether you die or not, your name will be sheltered, while mine,” Burr widen his eyes, like he had just made this revelation, “will be in ruins”. Alexander was getting more uncomfortable as his rival made his speech. 

“God, we have really switched ourselves up, haven’t we, Alexander?” He then did the most unBurr-like action; he laughed. But it wasn’t joyful, it was pained, as he were struggling to breathe. It sounded, instead of carefree and light, like he was gurgling glass. 

 

“I’m finished, and you, Alexander, will be my end.” He whispered. “But you don’t have to be."

Alexander saw the glint of Burr’s gun at the man rose it, and suddenly Alexander completely understood what was happening. 

“Burr, you’re being ridiculous.” He responded, his voice becoming scratchy. Burr simply shook his head, and grinned. 

“No, I’m making a decision, like I always wanted to do. And this time, no one important will get hurt. Alexander Hamilton, make your legacy. I know that you’ll do amazing things for this country; you’ll make it better, and history books will sing your praises for it.” Burr stated, “I’ll erasing myself from the narrative.” 

“Burr, you’re not making the right decision” Hamilton replied, staring at the gun in his hand, which was now suspending in the middle chest. Alex unconsciously licked his lips before speaking again. “You know this; you’re smarter than this."

“No, no, I’m not, and I will never be.” The barrel of the gun was now resting on his throat, and the sun was beginning to rise. Alexander caught of the tear stains on the man’s face, and they seemed cascade down like time itself was slowing down. “Tell my Theodosia,” Burr’s voice was now audible cracking and he was panting, “that her father wasn’t strong enough to protect her name, to protect her from the man that I thought I would hate all these years, but just admired and forgiven every step of the way. The man that didn’t hesitate to take everything I had, my pride, my time, and that spoke words that could kill man. But I’m not this because of him.” He stopped, before continuing. “I’m doing this for the ‘me’ that could have been, if I hadn’t been a coward, if I had taken risks. After all, my motto was,”

Aaron was openly sobbing now, tears coming at faster rate. The sun was at the half way point now, giving the area more light. It really wasn’t appropriate.  
“Talk less” he lowered his eyes to the gun, eyeing the trigger. “Smile more.” He gave one more unconvincing smile then…BANG!

“AARON, WAIT!!”

 

His second he pulled him away from the scene, explaining he can’t be seen with a dead man, that it would ruin him if he stayed. He wished that it did. He wished that he had been condemned by his peers and casted aside from his family. Not this. Not haled and praised like some god, for destroying Beelzebub and bringing restoration to the land. 

He just finished crying, when thought suddenly brought it back tenfold.  
Theodosia Burr was now an orphan.


End file.
